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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654713">don't want to wake up (on my own)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas'>givebackmylifecas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Martín is part of the first heist, Nightmares, Secret Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles, the gang is very oblivious</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:36:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is ridiculous,” Nairobi fumes. “No one can sleep like that.”<br/>Andrés looks up from his book and glances across the room to where Nairobi is stood over Palermo - who is slumped across the back of an armchair, having fallen asleep standing up.<br/>“He’s tired,” Andrés says with a shrug.<br/>Nairobi shakes her head again. “No, he’s faking it.”<br/>“He’s really not.”</p><p>5+1 with sleepy berlermo</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>191</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>don't want to wake up (on my own)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>idk what this is, i just like thinking about sleep</p><p>TWs: mild (insincere) homophobia, nightmares, mentions of canon-typical injuries</p><p>fic title from the smiths song 'asleep'</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>I</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“This is ridiculous,” Nairobi fumes. “No one can sleep like that.”</p><p>Andrés looks up from his book and glances across the room to where Nairobi is stood over Palermo - who is slumped across the back of an armchair, having fallen asleep standing up.</p><p>“He’s tired,” Andrés says with a shrug.</p><p>Nairobi shakes her head again. “No, he’s faking it.”</p><p>“He’s really not.”</p><p>“He is.”</p><p>Andrés sighs and puts his book down. “And if he is? How do you expect to prove it?”</p><p>Nairobi is silent for a moment as she thinks. Next to her, still draped on the armchair, Martín lets out a sleepy sigh.</p><p>“I’ve got it,” she eventually says. “I’ll just say something he disagrees with so strongly that he has no choice but to react. It’ll be instinct, he won’t be able to help himself.”</p><p>“You’re wrong,” Andrés says, shaking his head again. “I’ve known him for years and it’s weird, but he really can fall asleep anywhere.”</p><p>Nairobi makes a strange flapping gesture that he takes to mean she’s going to start her ridiculous plan and he rolls his eyes.</p><p>“You’re right, Berlin,” she announces. “Women really are much better than men - in every way.”</p><p>Andrés sighs loudly and she shushes him.</p><p>“And straight people?” she continues. “They’re by far superior. In fact, I don’t think gay people should be allowed to get married. After all, it’s their choice to be that way.”</p><p>She pauses, glancing over at Martín who is still fast asleep. Nairobi looks put out.</p><p>“I told you,” he says pointedly. “What would even be the point in feigning sleep?”</p><p>Nairobi shrugs. “I don’t know... attention? And his ass looks pretty good from this angle too,” she says, leaning back to get a better view.</p><p>“Hey,” Andrés snaps. “Keep your eyes to yourself.</p><p>“What, you can ogle all the women here, but I can’t look at your friend? You’re such a hypocrite, Berlin,” Nairobi says loudly.</p><p>This time Andrés hushes her. “Don’t wake him! He doesn’t get enough sleep as it is.”</p><p>Nairobi grins wickedly. “So Rio was right? Palermo and Helsinki are fucking.”</p><p>“No of course not!” Andrés says and this time his voice is loud enough to wake Martín.</p><p>He suddenly jerks upwards with a grunt and then groans, hands flying to his lower back.</p><p>“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyed still half closed. “Did I fall asleep?”</p><p>“Yes,” Andrés confirms, trying not to sound too fond. “We were in the middle of talking about what to do after the mint and you passed out.”</p><p>Martín yawns widely. “Sorry.”</p><p>Nairobi looks at him in disbelief. “You were actually asleep?”</p><p>“Yes?” Martín answers with a frown.</p><p>“Remember when you fell asleep in that shoe shop?” Andrés reminds him and Martín grins.</p><p>“Yeah, because you take forever to pick shoes. Besides, the sofa there was comfy.”</p><p>“Unbelievable,” Nairobi exclaims. “So you didn’t hear anything I said?”</p><p>Martín narrows his eyes. “What did you say?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Nairobi says quickly.</p><p>“She said your ass looked good from that angle,” Andrés snipes and she shoots him a wounded look.</p><p>Martín laughs. “Well, you’re not wrong.”</p><p>Nairobi huffs and leaves the room and Martín raises his eyebrows.</p><p>“Did she really say that?”</p><p>Andrés nods, glaring in the direction Nairobi had disappeared into. “She did, but don’t worry, I told her to keep her eyes off you.”</p><p>Martín scoffs, crossing the room to drop into Andrés lap. </p><p>“Are you feeling jealous today, cariño?” he teases, kissing the side of Andrés’ head.</p><p>“No,” Andrés says unconvincingly. “As long as people are only looking.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>II</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Are you ever going to tell him?” Helsinki asks, grabbing a chair from the table and dragging it over to where Martín and Andrés are sprawled.</p><p>Martín looks up at him suddenly enough to jostle Andrés, who is asleep with his head in his lap. “Tell him what?”</p><p>Helsinki raises his eyebrows and looks pointedly at Andrés who is stretched out on the grass. “Palermo, we can all see it. It’s okay.”</p><p>“What’s okay?” Martín scowls.</p><p>Helsinki shifts uncomfortably on his chair. “You love him.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“You should tell him,” Helsinki says, his expression painfully earnest.</p><p>“Sure,” Martín says. “I’ll get right on that.”</p><p>Helsinki looks out across the lawn, to where Rio and Tokyo are being way too obvious about their supposedly secret relationship and sighs.</p><p>Martín strokes a hand through the hair that Andrés would never admit is starting to thin and decides to go easy on Helsinki, who really does seem to have his best interests at heart.</p><p>“I appreciate your concern, Helsi,” he says quietly. “I really do. But Andrés and I… we’re fine. Things are good the way they are.”</p><p>Andrés mutters something in his sleep, shifting a little so his face is firmly pressed against Martín’s belly. Martín smiles fondly at him.</p><p>“If you’re sure,” Helsinki says slowly. “He’s… he’s not a kind man. You could get hurt.”</p><p>Martín looks away from Andrés, and finds nothing but sincerity on Helsinki’s face.</p><p>“I could,” he eventually agrees. “And he isn’t. I know exactly who and what he is and it’s okay. He won’t hurt me… not anymore.”</p><p>What he doesn’t say is ‘not again’, but something tells him that Helsinki hears it anyway.</p><p>“That’s good,” he says and Martín nods.</p><p>“You know, I’m not kind either.”</p><p>Helsinki laughs. “Yeah, but you’re not as cruel as you think you are either.” He gets to his feet, still chuckling. “I’m going to get a beer, do you want one?”</p><p>Martín nods, gesturing at Andrés, who is still fast asleep and snoring gently. “Sure, looks like I’ll not be getting up any time soon.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>III</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Andrés wakes when his door creaks open. He sits up, blinking sleep from his eyes as someone crosses the room, moving towards the bed. The mattress dips as they sit down.</p><p>“Shh,” Martín says softly. “Go back to sleep.”</p><p>Andrés sighs, leaning back into his pillows, as Martín crawls under the covers and settles down next to him.</p><p>“Where have you been?” Andrés asks sleepily, pulling Martín into his arms. “And why are you so cold?”</p><p>Martín wriggles closer, pressing his cold feet between Andrés’ calves. “I couldn’t sleep, went outside for a smoke.”</p><p>He shoves his head under Andrés’ chin and Andrés gets a strong whiff of the cigarettes Martín prefers when he’s stressed.</p><p>“You couldn’t have showered first?” he teases and Martín yawns against his neck.</p><p>“Too tired,” he mumbles. “And cold.”</p><p>Andrés rubs his back, trying to warm him up. “Again, a shower would have helped – and what sort of idiot goes outside without a coat? It’s February.”</p><p>Martín yawns again. “Your idiot.”</p><p>“Apparently,” Andrés says, kissing the top of Martín’s head. “We all make mistakes, don’t we?”</p><p>“I certainly did,” Martín snipes. “I should have just had a hot shower and gone to my own bed.”</p><p>He makes a half-hearted attempt to leave, but doesn’t get far when Andrés simply refuses to let go of him. He stops trying to escape, curling back towards Andrés.</p><p>“Fine, but only because it’s cold.”</p><p>Andrés laughs, even as his eyes start sliding shut against his will. “Good, then stop bitching and go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah the heist of the century,” Martín grumbles. “I still think we should be doing the bank heist.”</p><p>Andrés smiles when Martín presses a kiss to his throat, tangling their bodies even more tightly together. “You know I think you’re right, cariño, but let Sergio have this. It’s not like he has much else going on.”</p><p>Martín doesn’t respond beyond some garbled numbers and Andrés sighs, stroking his hair before settling down to sleep too.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>IV</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hell no,” Denver yells, patting Martín’s cheek. “You’re not sleeping in a bar.”</p><p>Andrés laughs as he watches the younger man attempt to wake Martín who is resting his head on the table, face pillowed in his arms.</p><p>“There’s no point,” he tells Denver. “He’s too drunk.”</p><p>Nairobi nods hazily from across the booth. “He’s right, I’ve seen him fall asleep standing up - and that was without him having downed tequila.”</p><p>“You should really let that go,” Andrés says and Nairobi shakes her head.</p><p>“I can’t, it’s too weird.”</p><p>Denver scowls. “Well, he needs to wake up. The bar will kick us out if they catch him sleeping on their tables and I want to go home.”</p><p>He starts tapping at Martín’s face again, this time veering too closely into slapping territory for Andrés’ taste.</p><p>“That’s enough!” he snaps.</p><p>Denver looks up, a satisfactory amount of fear in his eyes and takes his hands off Martín.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says, still looking a little frightened. “It’s just weird that he won’t wake up. He wasn’t such a light-weight before the heist.”</p><p>Andrés shuffles closer to Martín. “It’s the painkillers, he’s not supposed to drink while he’s taking them.”</p><p>“Idiot,” Nairobi says, but quickly shuts up when Andrés glares at her.</p><p>Andrés reaches out and firmly shakes Martín’s shoulder. “Palermo, wake up.”</p><p>Martín groans, but doesn’t move. Denver gives him a pointed look and Andrés rolls his eyes. He shakes Martín again.</p><p>“Come on, wake up. We need to go. You can’t sleep in a bar, you’re not twenty-six anymore,” he says loudly.</p><p>Martín sits up, only to slide sideways into Andrés’ lap. From the other side of the table, Denver and Nairobi exchange grins, probably due to just how compromising Martín’s position looks from their perspective.</p><p>“Don’t you dare,” Andrés growls when they both raise their phones to take photos.</p><p>Denver immediately shoves his phone back in his pocket, but Nairobi hesitates for just long enough that Andrés is sure she’s already taken pictures which will be used against him in the future.</p><p>“Martín,” Andrés hisses, pulling him upright. “We’re going home, you need to wake up.”</p><p>Martín’s eyelids flutter and then, finally, remain open. His eyes fix hazily on Andrés’ and a smile spreads unevenly across his face.</p><p>“Drés,” he slurs and Andrés sighs.</p><p>“There you are, now come on, we’re leaving.”</p><p>Martín nods, his head lolling onto Andrés’ shoulder. “’M gonna sleep first.”</p><p>“Oh no, you don’t” Andrés says, wrapping an arm around Martín’s waist and dragging him out of the booth. “No sleeping till we’re home.”</p><p>“And then I can sleep?” Martín asks with a whine.</p><p>“Yes,” Andrés sighs. “Then you can sleep.”</p><p>Denver and Nairobi join them and Denver hooks Martín’s free arm over his shoulder.</p><p>“Come on, Palermo,” Nairobi laughs, leading the way out of the bar. “Try and stay awake until we’re in the taxi at least.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>V</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Martín sighs when for the third night in a row, he wakes to Andrés whimpering next to him.</p><p>“Andrés wake up!” Martín whispers loudly. “It’s just a nightmare.”</p><p>He sits up, running gentle hands over Andrés’ face and neck. The other man doesn’t react, still trapped in his dream.</p><p>“Martín,” Andrés cries, his face damp with tears and sweat. “Martín, go! Now!”</p><p>Martín swears. The mint dreams are the worst, plaguing Andrés since they both narrowly escaped after the rest of the gang, leaving them both with wounds – some of which have had longer lasting effects.</p><p>“Andrés, baby, you need to wake up,” he tries again, shaking his shoulder. “Come on, you’re not in the mint. You’re here with me, it’s okay, we’re both here and we’re safe.”</p><p>Andrés’ screws up his face, unconsciously grasping at him, one hand wrapping around Martín’s wrist.</p><p>“Martín?” he mumbles.</p><p>“Yeah,” Martín says. “I’m here, it’s okay.”</p><p>Andrés draws a harsh breath, eyes flying open as he suddenly sits up. His hands, shakier than they’ve been in a while, reaching out to hover over Martín’s face. They move down, pressing against his jugular where his pulse is tangible. Martín keeps up a stream of assurances as Andrés’ seeking hands continue down onto his bare chest, tracing the sunburst scar from the bullet wound on the side of his torso.</p><p>“I’m okay, cariño,” Martín says softly. “I’m okay and so are you.”</p><p>“The mint,” Andrés says, voice hoarse. “We got out.”</p><p>Martín cups his face. “Yes we did. You got us out. Remember?”</p><p>Andrés nods. “I was going to stay, but you wouldn’t let me. So you said you’d stay too and I decided to run with you at the last minute.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Martín agrees. “We’re safe because of you.”</p><p>Andrés sighs, slumping forward into Martín’s arms like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Martín manoeuvres them both into lying down again, arms wrapped around Andrés. Andrés lets himself be manhandled and settles his head on Martín’s chest, pressing his ear right over his heart.</p><p>“You’re okay?” he asks Martín.</p><p>Martín strokes Andrés hair and nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”</p><p>Andrés sighs. “Better now.”</p><p>“Good. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep again?”</p><p>He feels Andrés nod against his skin. “Yes. Just… please?”</p><p>“I know,” Martín says, knowing what he wants even though he can't say it. “I’ll stay, I’m sure the others know by now anyway.”</p><p>“Unobservant idiots,” Andrés mumbles and Martín laughs.</p><p>“They’re not that bad.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <strong>+ I</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Andrés is pouring himself and Sergio more coffee when Martín shuffles into the kitchen of the villa. He’s wearing a robe – and Andrés assumes not much else – when he flops down next to him and steals Andrés’ fresh coffee. Andrés smiles fondly and ignores Sergio rolling his eyes.</p><p>Tokyo glares at Martín from the other end of the table and when he remains oblivious to it, Andrés exchanges a confused glance with Raquel. Martín continues to inhale Andrés’ coffee, ignoring both Tokyo’s enraged glares and the buttered toast Andrés puts on his plate.</p><p>Eventually though, Andrés has had enough.</p><p>“Tokyo, what the fuck is your problem?” he demands and all the other conversations at the table come to a halt.</p><p>She narrows her eyes, scowling at him. “I don’t have a problem with you, I have a problem with Palermo.”</p><p>Martín looks up from his mug. “What the fuck are you talking about?”</p><p>“I’m talking about the fact that our rooms share a wall!” she says angrily.</p><p>Andrés catches the mild look of panic that Martín throws at him before he responds to Tokyo.</p><p>“Yes, I’m aware,” Martín says, a cutting edge to his voice. “I can hear you and Rio going at it like catholic rabbits every night.”</p><p>Tokyo colours, eyes flashing dangerously, but she doesn’t back down. “Yeah, and all I can hear is you snoring. All. Fucking. Night. We’re millionaires now, go get your nose fixed.”</p><p>“Martín doesn’t snore,” Andrés says. “He solves equations in his sleep.”</p><p>“Andrés is the one who snores,” Martín replies with an eye roll. “You get used to it.”</p><p>Tokyo and most of the others stare at them.</p><p>“What?” Martín asks. “You can ask Sergio, it’s true.”</p><p>“Don’t drag me into this,” Sergio responds automatically, disappearing behind his newspaper.</p><p>Raquel and Martín both snigger while the others still continue to gape.</p><p>Andrés sighs. “Why are you all opening and closing your mouths like a school of particularly dumb fish?”</p><p>Rio is the one who speaks first. “You share a room?”</p><p>“Oh god they are that bad,” Martín groans, dropping his head onto Andrés’ shoulder. “Unobservant idiots.”</p><p>Andrés curls a hand around his neck, thumb stroking the space behind his ear. There’s a rustle and Sergio lowers his paper with a frown.</p><p>“What’s going on?” he asks, pushing his glasses back up his nose.</p><p>Raquel laughs, reaching out to take his hand. “Your kids have only just figured out their uncles are practically married.”</p><p>There’s a flurry of noise as the gang protest to being called kids and Martín vehemently protests to being called their uncle and Andrés exchanges yet another exasperated look with Raquel.</p><p>“Everyone, shut your mouths,” he says loudly. “Yes, we’ve been together for years. Yes, we kept it a secret. Not everyone is as unsubtle as Rio and Tokyo – and it’s not our fault none of you noticed.”</p><p>Martín nods his agreement. “And Tokyo?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Invest in some earplugs and stop bitching.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my apologies for this, it's straight up bad and ooc but what can you do?</p><p>comments and kudos feed my life-force or whatever (I'm not a scientists) and as always feel free to come and scream at me on tumblr (<a href="https://hefellfordean.tumblr.com">@hefellfordean</a>) or twitter (<a href="https://twitter.com/angstypalermo">@angstypalermo</a>) if you like</p></blockquote></div></div>
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